Piece Of Eden
by FireChestnut
Summary: She was a Super Soldier from fifty years in the past, he was a simple Quarian researcher hell-bent on curing his species of their dampened immune system. Behind her chaos and fears, he sees a woman whose scars have their own story. Behind his mask, she sees a man who can help. OC(f) x OC(m), language and violence, eventual romance.
1. Send Us A Blindfold

**_Mass Effect: Piece Of Eden_**

**AN: **This is part of a trilogy or series of stories I'm working on. My other story, Transcendence (which I'm in the process of updating, I promise!) features a Quarian named Lhoc'Riigh vas Ensha, Dare (featured in this story) was/is a crew member of his. This story is set fifty years after the Reaper War.

Please Read and Review!

-Chestnut

* * *

><p><em>"<em>One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star."<em>_

__-___Nietzsche_

**_- _13 Hours Ago_ -_**

_The day was cold-unusually so for the season-there was hardly a breath of air stirring. Large white masses of cloud profusely distributed about the peach blue sky. She could feel a cold sting on her lids, she wondered when the Holiday snow would begin. The flakes swirled around, getting caught in her hair and the dark fabric of her heavy coat. It was snowing in St. Petersburg. The small bundle in her arms was warm and silent, and she smiled. It had been a long time since she was genuinely happy. The feeling was foreign. It was Christmas morning, and she had just been released from the hospital. She could see him, however. He was leaning against the door, watching her with those cold steel eyes._

Dare stirred. She felt absolutely awful, as if she had been dumped into a trash compactor. It wasn't the recurring dream that had startled her, but more-so the fact she was in a stasis pod.

Eyes wide, she frantically tried pawing at the glass, but she was out of her suit. Her limbs remained atrophied by her side, motionless. Panic set in like wild fire. Her breath became laboured, heart raced, and if it wasn't for the fact she was in some sort of Eezo fluid, she would most likely be covered in sweat. There were various tubes sticking in her legs and arms, pumping oxygen into her blood. Sensors were attached to her chest and temples, the thin wires connecting to the mainframe of the pod. Where the fuck was she?

Calming herself enough to think straight, she managed to make out the familiar steel walls of the SS Versugisa. Well, it had to be the Versugisa, it was the only ship that came to mind. Where the hell was Cren? The ship was eerily silent. Only the auxiliary lights flickered in the dim room.

_Move_, she thought. _Move dammit_!

When her arm would not move, Dare furrowed her brows. She could move before, when out of her suit, albeit with some difficulty. How long had she been in stasis?

A few hours had passed before she could muster the strength to push the emergency evacuation button on the pods control panel. The clear substance that had been suspending her flooded into intake grates. She closed her eyes, waiting for her body to crash into the ground. When the impact didn't arrive, she opened one fawn-like eye. She was still floating. The Artificial Gravity had been turned off, or had failed. Well, this would make things a bit easier for her.

She looked at the blood on her hands, and in a part of her she tried very hard to keep under lock and key she knew war, death, all of it would never be as satisfying as taking another person's life.

She mentally chided herself for letting that memory come to mind. She was weightless, effortless, as she tentatively pushed the door open with a clammy hand.

The Versugisa was a ghost, empty and unyielding. She had trouble navigating The Ship's interior with so little light. Where was her suit? Dare pulled herself along, grabbing onto anything she could to propel her forwards. The Eezo fluid was still on her skin, coating it in a fine film, and thus making it hard to keep warm. Without her Omni, it would be impossible to communicate if she ran into a crew member.

"Cren? Lhoc? _Zdes' yest' kto-nibud'_?"

No one answered.

"Harriet?"

Silence.

After finding her suit in The Armoury, and after much trouble getting herself into the damn thing, Dare did a more thorough search now that she was back to full capacity.

The Bridge was completely empty. The large chair where Captain Lhoc'Riigh vas Versugisa sat was empty. Aikhme Fenn's-the Drell ace pilot-chair was empty as well. Harriet's room was deserted besides a few girly magazines and a bottle of nail polish, affectionately branded 'Hanar Pink'. The last room she check was Cren'Olt's. She wasn't surprised when it was empty as well. Dare growled and punched the wall. What was going on?

She had passed the cryo pods on her way back towards the shuttle bay, and it was there she saw a piece of white paper floating beside the now vacated pod. How had she missed it? It must have got knocked down when she opened the door.

The words were in what she guessed to be Quarian.

_Emilie, I'm so sorry, but you were captured by Cerberus and put into stasis. I managed to rescue your pod when it was going through transport in Port Hanshan, but I wasn't able to wake you up. If the rest of the pods are empty, we've vacated the ship. The shuttle will be missing. I've put a distress beacon on The Versugisa, hopefully it will hail a ship to come rescue you, granted it's not Mercs or Pirates. Stay safe._

_Cren'Olt nar Quoram._

As she finished reading, her brows were knit with confusion and hurt. Why would Cren leave her behind? Why couldn't he wake her up? She had more questions than answers at this point.

Navigating her way back to The Bridge, she checked the Flight Console.

It was dead.

Although the ship was still running on what little reserve power it had left, Cren had most likely re-routed all of the ship's power to keep her alive. The thought of her slowly dying of starvation, left alone on a desolate ship, made her insides churn.

She nearly jumped when she heard her SUI whir to life.

"Sorry ma'am, I was just performing some upgrades. Connecting to Comm Buoy Krogan DMZ, it looks like a salvage team is currently on route."

* * *

><p>Omega. The asteroid was a glimmer of crime-riddled hope in the distance. The Salvage Team had agreed to bring her to Omega, it was only a few jumps away. The Pilot, a rather aloof Salarian, glanced her way.<p>

"What exactly where you doing on that ship?"

When she didn't say anything, he merely shrugged and continued to drive the shuttle into the docking bay.

It seemed different. How could it change so quickly? Dare, almost instinctively, knew where to go. She didn't even have to think about it, her feet merely did the walking for her. The short trip to Kenn's Salvage was an arduous one, her limbs were still sore. To her relief, despite Omega some-how mysteriously changing in her absence, Kenn's Salvage was still there.

"Kenn?"

When no one answered, she called again, but it was a different Quarian who came up to the store front.

"I'm not Kenn, but his son, can I help you?"

Dare tried her best to remain calm. His son? Since when did Kenn have a son?

"Hey, I know who you are. Dad always talked about you, in fact there's a picture of you with him in the back room." The Quarian slapped his wrench down on the table, leaned into his elbows, and chuckled. "You playing some sort of prank on me? There's no way the real Dare is alive."

She blinked.

"What is the date."

"2261."

Dare said nothing as she walked outside.

She found herself in a hallway silhouetted by overhead light. Alone.

She removed her helmet. Pain blossomed in her head, more mental than physical. Heat prickled her cheeks, and Dare pressed her forehead against the nearest wall, her breaths suddenly jagged. Her stomach churned. It didn't help. She had been sobbing for a good fifteen minutes now.

She pushed herself from the wall and dragged her fingers down the sides of her face, her claws catching on every nick and groove. She stumbled forward. Light and shape blinked in and out of focus. The sides of her vision blurred, moving with the machine-like jolt of her stride. Her ribs grated against each other, constricting ever tighter.

The next garbage can she found was instantly filled with her vomit. She grasped the sides, bile dribbling out from her mouth, making a mess on the floor.

She screamed and punched a hole in the wall. Metal and shrapnel exploded around her, reminding her of various battles she had witnessed before. Removing her armored fist, she found her helmet and replaced it on her head.

_They're all dead._

Dare sauntered to Afterlife, where she drank enough Ryncol to make her brave enough to get into a fist fight with a Krogan Warlord. Then again, she was in the suit. The Elcor bouncer gave her a fleeting glance, obviously not wanting to engage her. Stepping over the Krogan spread-eagle on the floor, she focused her attention on news reports. Just what exactly was going on?

It looked like Eden Prime would be the best place to start.

* * *

><p>"<em>I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way.<br>Whoever brought me here will have to take me home."_

_-Rumi_

She floated in the shallows of consciousness. A sun the colour of limes shone above, rays heating the waters and numbing her senses. Awareness lapped at her mind. Something revolved with an abrasive whirring. The sun passed over her, bands of yellow-green focusing on her stomach, then on her arms. The smell of something herbal, spicy. Hands caressed her throat. Warm, gloved fingers. She didn't have the strength to push them away.

Tinkling links of a chain, a dainty weight lifted.

Her cross. Someone was taking it.

"No!" She grabbed with hands that wouldn't rise. Tried to sit up with a body that wouldn't move. Her eyes opened to the sun in all its verdant glory. The hazy figure of a Quarian hovered above her, frozen, her cross swinging between his index finger and thumb. It was Kenn's son.

He was kneeling over her, and she realized she was out of her suit.

"That Ryncol took its toll on you, took me a good hour to get you back here and get you out of the suit. Good thing Dad left a few notes on how to get you out, seems like this was a common occurrence back when he was still around." The Quarian chuckled. "I'm Lenn'Shal, by the way. And you must be Emilie."

He slid from sight like a reflection from water, leaving her wondering if he had been there at all.

Something retracted from her. Her surroundings went dark. She blinked the bright splotches away and tried to make sense of where she was. The raised sides of her bed flared in elegant ripples around her, blocking the rest of the room from view. She lay on something...gelatinous. The temperature of the substance matched her body, giving that eerie feeling of suspension. Slight sensations of fluid oozing around her toes. No feeling from her other extremities. Nothing obeyed her commands to move, to flee.

It was the hydraulic fluid of her suit.

Movement above her. She stared with stunned stupidity, details filtering in so fast her brain couldn't keep up. Folds of fleshy coils the colour of aged ivory. Black eyes of the Quarians glowered from slanted ridges between the coils. Tawny light shimmered inside them, then flared bright as the sun in her dream. They descended from the coiled maw and became a bridge that passed over her multiple times, rims around the eyes spinning clockwise and counterclockwise. She squinted at them - then at her bare breasts quivering along with her thready breaths. The pain medication was making her hallucinate. She didn't like this.

"LENN!"

He appeared on command, startling her. The scanners created a nimbus of glinting light around his head. Paler than normal, his eyes bright, almost feverish.

"Tone of voice indicates panic. I wish you hadn't woken so soon, Emilie. Now I must explain, comfort, and reassure. We don't have time for that."

"You make time! Tell me what happened, where's my suit?"

"Don't be embarrassed." She flushed. "You're still stabilizing, it's kind of funny how similar you are to a Quarian, once you're out of your suit you're like a fish out of water."

He was gone again. She strained to see him past the scalloped rims of her wet prison. He abandoned all pretense of appearing cordial, using his reflexes and agility to full potential. Like an agitated bird, he darted from console to console, pecking at symbols with his hands and craning his neck at holograms of her body. Gloom obscured the rest of the room. Ridges and sheet metal of the architecture shone a deep grey where the hololight reached. She dropped her head, her neck muscles twitching with fatigue. The eyes and coils above blurred into each other, and shadows crept along her vision. Her stomach began to ache.

Lenn shimmered in her vision like a mirage, his head angled and luminescent eyes hooded behind his mask.

"I need to get to Eden Prime."

A birdlike tic of his head and his eyes snapped to hers.

"That will have to wait for a few more hours, you're still stabilizing."

"At least cover me."

He chuckled once more.

"I enjoy the view."

Her face became inflamed with heat at his remark. How could this be Kenn's son? Kenn was gentle, and nervous, and wouldn't dream of speaking to her like that.

"That said, the biologic scan is ready now. I'll begin the initial sequence."

"NO!" The pain in her arms seethed and roiled.

She bleated when he clamped his hands on her arms, quailed when he snarled in her face. "Stop being afraid! Stop it! Don't you understand how uncomfortable it is to look at you? Your expression contorting, your body shaking, tears and mucus running down your face?"

Again that tic of his head, his entire body a rigid wire. He closed his eyes, breath heaving, his voice trembling. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, please. What am I saying? Of course you're afraid. This is an alien ship with alien technology that is strange and frightening. Please add my insensitive outburst to your list of grievances."

But he fled from her to unknown parts of the room. More buttons fluted in disharmony, a purring sound, then the elevator sensation of rising. "Patient ready for first phase," he said over the trilling roll of machinery. "Administering medi-gel."

Something jabbed the back of her neck. Instant headiness. Her tongue swelled in her mouth, kept her from crying out. Her arms tingled instead of throbbed. The black eyes pulled into the coils and the coils unwound themselves. Folds of flesh, transparent and soft white. The insides of an oyster.

Her world became black as inky spots clouded her vision.

She walked barefoot in a desert of lavender sand. Her sleeveless white dress flowed to her calves, tamed at the waist by a corded beige sash. The sky belonged to someone else. A giant white moon tried to smother a smaller, purpler, version of itself. Galaxies twinkled beyond the moons, hinting new life and death.

A city lay in ruins around her, magnificent even in its decay. Spun glass of red and gold glittered on her path. Accents of topaz and once ornate carvings on domes and keyhole gates. Bones half-buried in sand guarded opened doorways and collapsed buildings of marbled brown stone. Almost human, but with strange sloped heads, wide eye sockets. And smaller ones. Children.

Beyond a sculpted archway of the same marbled stone, statues four heads higher than hers held their hands to the sky. Five fingers. Five toes. Native garb of feathers and beads. Jewelry, headdresses. Webs without spiders draped between the statue bases, sand their only prisoners.

Someone took her flopping hand, turned her over and thumped her back one time - hard. She gagged, then vomited a stream of amber fluid.

She took a deep, gurgling breath, and then retched again. Brown sludge clouded the fluid, a mesh-covered drain sucking it down like mud. The surface beneath her had the velvety-grip texture of a bath mat. A hand plucked the tendrils of hair sticking to her cheek and stroked her back as if she were a cat.

"The scan picked up an infection, you were purged. It will pass," Lenn cooed in her ear. He laid her on her side, his fingers slick from the layer of fluid coating her body. She concentrated on one breath at a time, astonished that she breathed at all. Alive and whole and nothing hurt. Weakness, hunger, and thirst. "Let's get you cleaned up, shall we? Can't have you going back into the suit covered in grime."

A low musical chime and water hit her. Nothing in heaven could compare to that sensation, to that temperate and perfect pressure of something else besides body fluids and alien goop smacking her skin. He coaxed her onto her hands and knees, and she shivered in that position like a newborn fawn. He doused her scalp, lifting sections of her hair, running his fingers through it until no slime remained. Everywhere the water went, his hands followed.

He emanated no titillation or pleasure from his task, but there was an intensity to his movements, a sort of predatory reverence that made her stay very still. She was suddenly glad she couldn't see his expression.

Her thoughts cast themselves adrift. The thrum of the alien ship changed to a sighing wind. Two moons battled for dominion over the sky, but their war faded in the light of three small suns.

Her eyes snapped back into focus, her day dream becoming distant. A holographic orrery slowly spun in the middle of the ship, entrancing her.

You are an abomination born of arrogance and greed. You are darkness. You are chaos.

Dare snarled under her breath.

She was the only occupant on the ship besides a small cluster of researchers probably coming from Noveria or Earth. The pilot was a disgruntled Turian, his talons scratching the side of his leg every time one of the researchers laughed.

Eden Prime slowly grew on the horizon, the inside of the ship aflame with the atmosphere burning around them. And then snow.

A memory stirred, the day was cold-unusually so for the season-there was hardly a breath of air stirring, she blinked it away. The ship whirred and groaned as they descended. Constant was covered with a thick blanket of snow.

The researchers quickly bundled themselves and shuffled off towards their destination. She, however, simply stood there, red lenses of her helmet affixed to the sky. She outstretched a massive hand, watching with slight bemusement as the flakes landed in her palm.

She was here, what now?

Perhaps the best place to start would be inside. Despite her suit's interior climate, it was starting to get cold. She found what looked like to be a cafe, and seated herself down, ignoring the waitress.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>Well, there's the prologue. Dare is a human woman who was born before the First Contact War. She was enlisted in a special program by the Russian Government to create human super soldiers, however she went dark on Shanxi. There will be tidbits of her past and other stuff as well in later chapters.

As always, reviews are always welcome!


	2. Send Us A Blade

_"Some of the evil of my tale may have been inherent in our circumstances.  
>For years we lived anyhow with one another in the naked desert, under the indifferent heaven."<em>

_- T.E. Lawrence_

_What time was it?_ A quiet sigh emitted from Dema's breath. However, it had not been quiet enough to avoid being picked up from the small transmitter device within the suit that projected his voice.

"Everything alright Dema? Perhaps it's time to call it a night," a voice from the other side of the room said. The Quarian looked up, almost surprised to hear the voice. Lorn, a friend and coworker to Dema, had been just as quiet in the last hour.

"Oh..yeah," The Quarian responded, taking a moment to look at the clock. It took him a moment to read it, not quite used to the day cycle of Eden Prime yet. "Go ahead out. I'm just going to finish up a few more notes." Placing his right elbow on the counter, he rested his head in his hand, eyes closed. Dema listened to his human companion say his goodbyes and then depart from the small apartment that he had rented out.

The apartment was modest in size, nothing at all to boast about. A small kitchenette was stationed in the corner of the room and in the main area, there was a couch and table. Beyond that, a bedroom, bathroom, and a small closet. There was a window which provided a view, and even with Dema's difficulty in reading the clock, it was clear that a good portion of the day had been wasted in books and datapad files.

"Keelah...where did the day go?" he thought aloud to himself. Even as a student, he rarely found himself spending this much time in his work, but perhaps he was onto something?

Dema's eyes peered through the mask, looking in the direction of the kitchen area. The Quarian spent a minute contemplating on whether to cook now, or later. Knowing Eden Prime was primarily a human settlement, he went out of his way to stock up on essentials for himself. Nothing you would find in a five-star restaurant, but enough to hold himself over. His stomach growled as he continued to think about the meal he would prepare, until he moved his arms onto the table. Using the combined strength of hims arms and his legs, he stood and began to walk. Perhaps a walk would help first, his mind trailed off.

Dema'Krien, the temporary resident of Eden Prime, departed from the cramped apartment and began to descend the complex it was built in. Down each set of stairs, three in total, the metal stairs and the footwear of his suit made a distinct sound of metal-on-metal. He rarely noticed it, but it was quiet at this time of the day. Many of the other inhabitants of the planet began to cook their meals and settle down for the evening. The time, as well as the weather brought a certain mathematical logic as to the silence. Above him, the sky was darker than normal, typically an indicator of rain he learned.

Not long after his walk began, small drop of rain had splattered onto the mask of his suit. His vocal emitter recognized his sigh once more and replicated it outside of his suit. With a turn of his heel, he made his way back to the complex and up to the third floor, where his 'home' was. But he did not yet enter it, instead he rested on the railing which protected those from falling from such heights. He looked up at the sky, where the precipitation had accelerated. Partially hidden behind the clouds he could see a circle in the sky. Arcadia. Certain times of the day and year, it was possible to see this neighboring planet. Dema leaned on the railing, just enjoying the view. It was a lovely planet to him, and with the roof above the walk way, he could watch the rain so long as he pleased.

* * *

><p>She lost track of how long she had been in the cafe for. It seemed like only minutes, but hours had passed. She spent them idly browsing the extranet, looking at news reports and the like. A few hours later, and a giant ship had crashed somewhere near Constant. Reports were coming in of a toxic substance flooding the grounds, but she wasn't naive enough to go 'exploring'. She knew how those expeditions panned out. If she were younger, perhaps, but she didn't feel like getting herself waist deep in potentially DNA altering alien muck.<p>

When the Lord taught humility, it wasn't with a slight nudge or a subtle wink. It wasn't with cryptic signs or complicated symbolism. No, He sent a flood to drown the Earth, a whale to swallow you, or a plague to kill your firstborn.

Night began to creep upon Eden Prime. The waitress, a young looking girl, timidly informed her that she had five minutes before it was closing time. It had stopped snowing, but it had began to rain. Dare checked her credit balance. She had around nineteen hundred last time she checked. It was around three hundred for the trip here, five hundred for accommodations on Omega...

The rest went to that bastard, Lenn'Shal. He actually had the audacity to charge her for the medical assistance. She should have thrown him out the airlock when she had the chance.

What snow had fallen the previous day was quickly washed away by the rain.

She had been to Eden Prime before, however it was decades ago, before her deployment to Shanxi. It was routine security work during the grand unveiling of the colony. Earth's first Garden World, the first colony beyond Sol. Man's greatest glory next to the Moon Landing. The memory persisted as a clear image, as if shiny and new and wrapped in cellophane.

Everything was different to her now.

She didn't know where she was, but she guessed it to be where the colonists lived. Rows of apartment buildings lined the streets, all chrome and compact and ergonomic. It was raining heavier now. The seven foot four behemoth probably looked strange trying to find a place to sleep.

Would it look odd if she slept under a balcony? Dare laughed. She slowly lowered herself down after finding a suitable spot underneath someone's patio. The red lenses in her helmet flickered as they adjusted to the new light. Someone adjacent from her had opened their door and was stepping outside. She couldn't make out much, but they were leaning on the railing, looking up at what she guessed to be the horizon.

* * *

><p>The rain was not letting up, it was clear by this point. Small puddles began to form in the potholes which had creeped their way into the sidewalks and roads. By this point, the wind had pushed the clouds apart, concealing Arcadia and many of the stars in the sky, but still they emitted a faint light that was drowned out by the street lights which had been automatically activated earlier in the evening.<p>

_So much history has been made here_, The Quarian thought to himself. _This was the stepping stone for the Humans to explore the galaxy, and even in recent times the recovery of a living Prothean, and it's involvement during the Reaper invasion, it made for quite a historical place..._ These thoughts were halted by a glimpse of something out of the Corner of Dema's eyes. The direction of his eyes shifted towards the patio, where he thought he saw the light.

"Interesting," Dema remarked to himself as he continued to watch the area. A shadow was formed in that vicinity due to the wall blocking the street light's output. His eyes squinted as he continued to look in the area, his posture straightening.

Being a man of science, the Quarian engineer began to formulate theories as to what the light was. The most logical in his mind was possibly a Geth, but they typically did not produce a red light. Whether or not he would admit it, he held contempt against the Quarian-made race, for what had happened in the past. The actions of a few brought a new outlook on them, but the opinion of his Grandparents still held foot in his mind.

Then a second thought ran through his mind, _What if it is friendly and is damaged, or perhaps it is a organic being_. Crime was relatively low on Eden Prime, but it was not impossible. Dema rested his left hand on his belt, near where he kept his pistol for personal protection.

He made his way down the first flight of stairs and then walked until he was above where he believed to see the brief red light. Uncertain if his actions were generous or stupid, he called out below. Not shouting, but speaking loud enough to be heard through the rain and distance, "Is somebody down there? Do you need help?" His suit and accent produced the distinct tone of a Quarian. Knowing now that he has made his presence known, he held his palm on the firearm's handgrip.

* * *

><p><em>"We had learned that there were pangs too sharp, griefs too deep, ecstasies too high for our finite selves to register.<br>When emotion reached this pitch the mind choked; and memory went white till the circumstances were humdrum once more."_

_- T.E. Lawrence_

Someone was coming.

She could hear someone in the distance, probably the figure she had seen earlier. When they asked if she needed help, the accented voice was a dead give away that they were a Quarian. Pushing herself off from the ground, Dare stood, uneasily at first, and walked out so she was standing directly in front of their line of sight. She wobbled briefly, she hadn't eaten in a while.

"Da... Help, I suppose, would be nice." She realized she was probably very intimidating, even more-so than a rage induced Krogan.

The rigs used during the program were heavily modified T5-V Battlesuits. One of the main reasons behind the towering height was for the hydraulic fluid capacity and eezo actuators. Instead of a gun, an arm canon was affixed to her right fore-arm. So, yes, she guessed she would be quite foreboding to someone new.

"Let's just say I woke up a few days ago after being in stasis for fifty something years, I spent all of my credits on a ticket here, the rest went to some bosh'tet Quarian-," she laughed inwardly at her usage of the Quarian expletive- "and now I am here, trying to make temporary residence underneath this house."

Dare fidgeted in her armor. Lenn hadn't done a very good job of putting her back in the suit properly. The threading that connected the rig to her central nervous system was chafing.

The past few days had not been very pleasant.


	3. Tell The Survivors Help Is On The Way

A mix of curiosity and generosity fueled Dema's actions towards this stranger, whom he had finally been able to catch a glimpse of. They seemed friendly, despite their appearance. In his mind, he used the word they loosely, uncertain for sure if this being was a male, female, or other. The suit seemed to emulate a distinct vocal pattern, which still sounded partially feminine.

"Well," he paused for a moment, moving his hand onto the stairway's railing rather than his firearm, "You can make temporary residence in my apartment, at least until you are feeling better."

In pure speculation, he assumed this being to be a female, a Quarian female at that! Her partial usage of their language and the mentioning of another Quarian only added fuel to this theory. It had been well over a year since he had seen another of his kind in person, Eden Prime did not seem to house many.

"Apartment number three-two-six, come if you wish," He spoke to her, regarding this as an invitation of hospitality. Like a small child who had just found a stray dog, he was actually rather excited to meet this person. He had rushed ahead to prepare something to welcome his guest, a small soup-like substance. It was not much, but it was likely more enjoyable than an edible paste. In the unfortunate event of his guest being a Human, Salarian, or anything other than a Quarian or Turian, he had a few snack foods that his coworker left. Crackers did not make for much of a meal though.

* * *

><p>"<em>Swallow your anger my love<br>The taste of patience  
>Is sweeter<br>And longer lasting."_

_-Arabic Proverb_

Dare laughed to herself, marveling the Quarian's hospitality. She watched as he rushed off, almost tripping over his feet as he clambered up the stairs. She followed suit, her heavy foot steps making a metallic ring as she ascended the stairs.

His apartment was modest. Small, but cozy. There was a small kitchenette where he was currently making what looked like some sort of hot liquid. Soup? She glanced over the various documents and datapads strewn about in neat piles. Was he a researcher?

Dare sat down on the small couch and placed her hands on either side of her helmet. A loud hiss of air escaped as she removed it. Normally she hated showing her face to strangers, but she was starving. Hopefully he wouldn't mind the scars and her bland appearance, for human standards at least. She was Russian, where were the blue eyes and blond hair?

She placed the helmet down on the table beside the couch, got up, and stood beside the fridge, watching as he made the meal. For a brief moment the man stood, illuminated by the window, and for all his subtle grace he looked awkward and unsure. She wondered if he had noticed her yet.

"I'm guessing that's for you. I tried Dextro once, just gave me a bad stomach ache, but I'd eat all the nice looking china in that cabinet at this point." She chuckled. "My name is Dare by the way, that's just my... _nickname_, I suppose."

She couldn't remember the circumstances of her getting that nickname, but she vaguely remembered the Tundra, her being naked, and a lot of Vodka. She wasn't usually this chatty, the hunger must have been making her delirious. "I'll also need help getting out of the suit if you don't mind, old _sranyy _(shitty) design work."

She pushed a stray strand of mousy brown hair behind her ear, eyes still affixed on the Quarian.

* * *

><p>Dema overheard the hiss of the helmet from the other room, he had stepped into the other for a moment, out of the view of his guest. He had gone into his bedroom to set his M-3 on the small dresser, so that he did not come off as an unwelcoming host. His eyes widened a bit, surprised to hear the noise, and spoke as he came out. "Eden Prime isn't a safe place to remov-"<p>

The spectacle he saw when he reentered the room caught him by surprise, a Human! At least he was half correct about the _female Quarian_ theory. It was all-in-all, just a theory though. He hadn't had the proper chance before to look at her hands and legs, it was clear now that he was wrong. "Oh." he subtly exclaimed, moving over towards the kitchen. He rummaged through the cabinet above the counter, knowing somewhere in it there was food fit for a human.

He listened carefully to _Dare_ as he pulled a few edible substances out for her. "Dare? A very interesting name. I am Dema'Krien vas Rannoch." he took a moment away from his search and gave a gesture that was between a bow and a nod. "Dema for short. What is your real name, if you do not mind me asking, Dare?"

The Quarian pulled out two things from the cabinet, one was a package of saltine crackers, and the other was a tin of coffee. Hardly anything to make a meal out of, it was merely food that Lorn had left there. He set them on the counter, and nodded his head at Dare's request. Dema walked around to the back of the suit, looking for a clear way of assisting, but instead of going on instinct, he waited for her to explain what to do.

While assisting her with her suit, Dema apologized to his guest. "I had forgotten of the dietary differences of other species. In all truthfulness, I was uncertain you were even human at the time." he spoke with a chuckle in his voice. "My coworker left some edible things here, but I am not sure it'd make a meal. There is some powdered energizer and then those white squares, but I believe those are some form of medicine. Lorn typically did not eat them unless he felt ill..." he trailed off, getting back on subject, "But you are my guest, and if you are hungry, we can find a restaurant that is still open." Dema offered this as an alternative to having his fine china be ravaged by the hungry armored woman, who for all he knew, has not eaten in fifty years.

* * *

><p>He was a refreshing change from that bastard Lenn'Shal.<p>

She watched as he rumaged about his cabinets. He pulled out what looked like a package of crackers and a tin of coffee. She quickly scarfed down the crackers, making sure not to make a mess of herself. She wiped a few stray crumbs from her lips and turned back to him when he asked what her name was.

"No, I don't mind. My name is Emilie Bishop nar Moscow vas _Versugisa_. Nice to meet you, Dema." She quietly chuckled at her further use of Quarian words. Hopefully he would find it funny as well. Wait, vas Rannoch? "Was Rannoch liberated? Sorry, I'm still trying to catch up on everything that has happened. When I was captured by Cerberus Commander Shepard had just destroyed the Alpha Relay." She found a clean mug in the sink, and filled it with hot water. It was instant coffee, but it was better than nothing. "Ow, hot. I was deployed to Shanxi during the First Contact War. After that I went dark, I dropped all contact with my squad and anyone affiliated with the program. I was seventeen, was a mother against my will, and I couldn't stomach fighting a War I had no say in. So, I met a rather grumpy Quarian, Lhoc'Riigh vas Ensha, and joined his rag-tag team of mercenary miners aboard the _Versugisa_. That went on for a few years. I grew close with the First Mate, Cren'Olt. He was the one who put me in stasis. I have no idea what happened to the rest of the crew. I was suddenly awake aboard the _Versugisa_, all stasis pods empty besides mine."

The coffee was shit. She dumped the rest down the drain. It didn't help settle her stomach.

"I don't think my daughter is still alive. I mean, Earth was hit pretty hard, wasn't it? I gave her up for adoption in Saint Petersburg a few days after she was born, and I gave up trying to contact her adoptive family. They had somehow slipped out of the system. When I finally managed to get a hold of her via Aria T'Loak's connections, she made it very clear she didn't want anything to do with me. So, I don't think it would really matter if she is alive or not, as hard as that is to say."

Dare sighed. Dema had begun assisting her with the suit, but she stopped him.

"I will warn you, I think it best we do this in the bathroom. There's going to be some blood and a lot of hydraulic fluid. My muscles are also atrophied. I can't walk. I left the program before the cybernetic implants were instituted. I don't control the suit with my own body, rather two tubes that stick into my back send information to the suit's central processor via information received from my central nervous system. Where's the bathroom, this way?" She was again, taken a back by how much she was talking. This was abnormal for her. Perhaps it was Dema's demeanor, he was very polite yet easy going. She felt comfortable enough around him. "There are some release valves you need to fiddle with, and the suit will butterfly open. Most of the fluid is going to spill out, you're then going to need to take those hoses out of my back. It's usually not too... gross, but said Quarian on Omega did a pretty bad job putting me back in yesterday. Oh, and be ready to catch me."

Hopefully it wasn't too much information for the man to process.

"Thank You for helping me. I'm not used to people being so kind."

* * *

><p>The specks of light in his mask grew as he widened his eyes. He was surprised at her ease of eating the crackers, which he perceived as some sort of medicine. Another brief chortle emitted from his mask as he heard her effort to speak like a Quarian. <em>Perhaps if this is how she truly speaks, I wasn't so far off with my Quarian guess,<em> he thought. However Dema felt the lighter tone begin to fade as she questioned about Rannoch.

"Yes, Emilie Bishop nar Moscow vas Versugisa," He said playfully, not necessarily in a demeaning way, "_Ex_-Cerberus Commander Shepard went on to help in the liberation of Rannoch, at the cost of the destruction of the Geth. But some Quarians are demanding the rebuilding of them, but I don't follow the news so much." He shrugged and moved his hand to rub his upper neck, his mind was in thought as he inspected the suit.

Dema's eyes focused on her face as she spoke of her past, giving attention to her instead of her suit. It was quite a tale, more than anything he had heard before. He had questions and doubts, but he was certain they would all be answered in due time. Certain names, locations, and events rang a bell in his mind as he listened, and when it was all over he placed his hand on the suit's back. Between their two suits, there was only so much comfort he could provide to his guest with such a troubled past.

A big question still remained in his mind, but he did not ask at this point. _What were the scars from?_ Dema could tell that by Human standards, she was pretty. It was fairly clear, at least he thought so, even with such a distinguishing feature. The affects of time had been nullified for the girl, despite the age that her stories date her back to.

Gesturing with his hand, he directed her towards the bathroom. The thought of blood did not comfort Dema as he still continued to help Dare. While she explained the processes, he began to work on them, being sure to take his time before the next step. It was an unfamiliar design to him, "It's a morbid, yet advanced design," he said, uncertain of what to make of it. He never liked the idea of people being transformed into super-soldiers, as it was apparent with this human.

"Alright, last step I think.." He said, hoping it would somehow bring comfort to her. The back of the suit had opened up, just as she forecasted. A brief waterfall of fluids gushed onto the porcelain tiles of the bathroom. Along with the liquid was a solid mass, Dare. He was careful to catch her, and with ease, he did. From there, he knelt down so he could momentarily rest her on the floor while he carefully removed the foreign tubing from her back. The blood and mess made him a bit squeamish, especially with the idea that contact with it on his skin could possibly harm him.

"Emilie...are you alright?" Dema asked, to ensure he did it right. Gentlying wrapping his arm around her back and under her knees, he lifted her off of the cold floor and moved her back to the couch in the living room. "Keelah, that escapade seems like hell to go through...is there anything you need?" He asked, taking a step back to give her some room.

* * *

><p>Dare felt a slight twinge of embarrassment as his eyes focused on her face. She was self conscious of her scars, but they were something she had grown to live with. They hadn't healed well, and were still a shade of light pink.<p>

"Yes, it is rather morbid. It's why I always stay in it for so long, I don't like getting in and out."

She felt the familiar feeling of the liquid spilling down, caressing her body on the way out. And then the sensation of falling, but he was there to catch her. There was a harsh sting as he removed the tubing, and then it was over.

"Yes, I think I'll be okay."

She made a little yelping noise as he lifted her bridal style. She was surprised by his strength, but then again she weighed very little. He laid her down on the couch, and she was glad for something soft to rest on. When he asked if she needed anything, she listened as her stomach growled.

"Food, I suppose. But I don't want to impose." She hated being a burden. "Give me about half an hour, I'll be able to walk a little by then." She tapped a few things into her Omnitool, the familiar buzz of eezo accelerates creeping into her blood stream.

"If you're wondering about the scars, the Director of the program gave them to me. He was also my child's father. I acted out a lot, but can you blame me? Cage a teen-aged girl up enough and give her strict rules and you're bound to run into trouble. I got the worst of it. I think that was the only way he was able to deal with a bunch of unruly girls, scar the one thing they show to the world most, that will teach them to oppose you, right?" She ran a finger over the ridges.

She unzipped a few inches of the top portion of her suit, showing her shoulders and collar line. The scars there were deep and precise.

"I have a lot more, but they're from battle. Shrapnel and the like," she said as she zipped her suit back up. "I'm not usually this...talkative, or at ease around people, especially out of the suit. I'm used to people taking advantage of me. Harriet was the only one I could really trust to help me, she was a soldier back on the Versugisa. An illiterate, Southern Belle soldier. We called her Jayne Mansfield, she had a whole lot of blonde hair." Dare chuckled briefly.

"I guess there's something about you that I like, you seem like a nice person, Dema."

Her lips curled into a small smile.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>You've probably noticed that I've been breaking up the PoV between these two characters, the main reason being I wanted to make it more fluid, and present and equal reaction between the two from eithers' point of view.

As always, reviews are most welcome!


	4. I Was A Blindfold

_"We lived always in the stretch or sag of nerves, either on the crest or in the trough of waves of feeling."_

-_ T.E. Lawrence_

Dema waited for until he had confirmation of what his guest needed before he relaxed. He planned to address it after he sat down on the couch. When he sat down on the furniture, the air in the cushions shifted slightly, compensating on the pressure that his body weight put on it. It was not a greatly made couch, but it did it's job. It could fit up to three people, or more if you didn't mind being sandwiched in.

Before he had a chance to respond to her food request, she began to elaborate on her scars. _Did she see me looking at them?_ He wondered, as it was a fairly random subject. He listened to her, still focusing on her face as she spoke. Her story was definitely not a kind story, she had gone through many trials and tribulations to get where she was today. If it had not been for the kindness of her past peers, she likely wouldn't be here today. Many super-soldiers and warriors have perished in the time that she was frozen.

Once she finished, Dema extended his hand, placing his two fingers on the side of her head and used his thumb to rub down one of the scars that landscaped Dare's face. "There is some technology or medicine, I hear, that helps in reducing scars," he said as he slid his hand away, placing it back onto his own knee.

Feeling that he was keeping unusually quiet about his past, he decided to speak of it some. Really, if either of them were to be keeping their past vauge, you'd figure it would've been Dare. Perhaps, truthfully though, he just wanted to be transparent with her. "You have..quite a history to say the least. Mine, I grew up on Rannoch, for the first half of my childhood, I lived with my parents. The later half, my grandparents..." he paused, contemplating what more to say, he had only told his past once or twice before this. "My parents passed away from an infection, which is common among our kind. All these papers and research, I'm researching the immune systems of other species, trying to figure out an alternative to medicine to help us live a more 'normal' life by other species' standards."

He leaned forward after his brief monologue and began to search under some of his papers for something. They were mostly research, but hidden under it he found something that might interest Dare more. He began to speak again, keeping the little pamphlet partially concealed from her vision, "And I would be a rude host if I did not feed you. Do you like...Chee-nese food?" He asked, attempting to pronounce the foreign word to him. He then turned the paper to allow her to see it. It was a Chinese delivery menu, one that his co-worker had left from the other day. He knew he could not eat any of it, but he had no quarrels in paying for it.

* * *

><p>Dare flinched as his warm hand was placed upon her face. She wasn't used to contact, but the alien hand felt comforting. He ran his thumb over one of her scars before placing his hand back on his knee. She wished it had stayed on her face longer. When he mentioned the medical advances in reducing scars, she merely nodded.<p>

He then began to talk about his past. Dare listened intently.

"I'm sorry about your parents," she said quietly. "Cren told me that Rannoch has no insect life, and that ancient Quarians relied on the plants and animals for their immune system. Cren was doing the same work you were doing when he wasn't doing his first mate duties. He was trying to reverse engineer the AIDs virus to work for Quarians. I think humanity was able to wipe the virus out as a whole, but he somehow got his hands on a sample. He was making progress, he theorized that by breaking the virus down, changing a few of its structures and functions, he could turn it into a super-immune booster." She opened her Omni-tool. "I still have his research, he wanted me to have a copy in case his got damaged or lost. Here, I think you could put it good use." She gave Dema a small smile as she transferred the data.

"And Chinese sounds great." She was able to wiggle her toes now, and with a little bit more concentration, she could twitch the muscles in her legs. She looked over the menu, her stomach growling as she read through the various dishes. "Chicken Chow Mein and Dim Sum."

She had more control over her muscles now. She slowly rose to her feet, shaking madly like a newborn fawn.

"I'm - oop - going to take a shower, if that's alright with you." She outstretched her arms to give her better balance.

She slowly crept towards the bathroom, taking baby steps and making sure not to over exert herself. Once inside, she sat down on the toilet and peeled off her suit. Thankfully the shower controls weren't too difficult. She noticed a bottle of body wash, and that was it. She turned on the water and slid into a seated position, not wanting to risk a fall.

What happened next caught her by surprise. Big, wet tears began to stream down her face. She hadn't properly grieved since waking up. All of her friends were dead. Lhoc, Harriet, Cren. She had no one left. The realization made her ribs feel tight, made her skin crawl. Pushing herself back up, she turned the water off and sniffled. She squeezed the excess water out of her hair, wrapped a towel around herself, and quietly exited the bathroom.

Dare opened a door leading to a room she hoped belonged to his co-worker. She quietly sighed of relief when she saw a few dress shirts hanging in a small closet. The rest of the garments looked like they belonged to a scientist. She slipped into one of the shirts and wrapped her hair up in the towel. She laughed. The shirt came down to her knees and the sleeves hung past her hands.

"I hope your co-worker doesn't mind, I commandeered one of his shirts."

She slowly made her way back to the couch and eased herself into a sitting position.

"Thank You for ordering the food... and, everything, really."

* * *

><p>"The AIDS virus? Very interesting place to begin, however after the Battle of Earth, I am not certain that there are any places that still store that kind of information. Tragic, but I will look into this research." Dema looked at his omni-tool, inspecting it momentarily while she reviewed the menu. Looking back up at the girl, he nodded "Thank you."<p>

The Quarian leaned a little towards her slight, looking at the menu with her. He did not know any of it, and it all sounded very odd to him, but if it was what she wanted, then so be it. The prices were inexpensive, especially compared to the prices of imported food designed for Quarians. "Chicken Chow Mein and Dim Sum... Got it." He began to tap away at the omni-tool, using a code on the menu to submit the order without the need of dialing.

Dema took a pause from it as he watched Dare stand up. It was clear that she had been in the suit for a dangerously long time, but the only way for her body to recover is to use it. "If you need any help, do not hesitate to ask." he said, watching as she walked away.

Once Dare had made it into the bathroom, Dema finished the order and had cleaned off the table, ensuring that no dumplings or soy sauce were to spill on it. Thankfully her hands did not appear as shaky as her legs, or else he would have to hire a maid as well. The downpour of both the rain and the shower drowned out the grieving of his new Human friend.

Before he knew it, the doorbell had rang. Ten minutes was extremely fast, or at least he thought it to be. The small, partially fat Chinese man was at the door, and he did not seem too pleased to be working in the rain. Dema offered the credits to him, the tip justifying the undesirable weather. Then in one plastic disposable bag, the man handed him the dinner, but not without a word of concern on his species' diet. "Do not worry, it is not for me." he said, giving a half chuckle which came from the vocal transmitter.

Dema heard the water shut off in the other room and knew that it would not be long before Dare was ready to eat, so he moved it over to the metal table. From there, he unbagged it, confused slightly by the boxes it came in. "Hm..." he said, quickly realizing method of opening it. He set them on the table, away from the bag and then placed the napkins as well, but one item in the delivery confused him. It was nothing more than a stick. "Bosh'tet forgot the eating utensils" he muttered as he tossed the apparently useless stick into the trash.

He smiled upon hearing his company return to the room. "I'm sure he won't mind. Anything he leaves in this building is forfeit," Dema said jokingly as he gestured towards the meal having arrived. He listened to her thanks and concealed behind the mask, he blushed ever so slightly. "It is not an issue. There is just something about you that has me wanting to help you," he shrugged and then looked towards the window where the rain was hitting against it. "And besides, you needed a shower. It's probably been fifty years since you've taken one, I could smell you through my mask!" The last remark was a joke, and a bad one at that.

* * *

><p>The food smelled amazing.<p>

"Where are the chopsticks?" He probably didn't know what those were. She then noticed a familiar looking wrapped pair of sticks in the trash. She laughed and pulled them out of the can, wiping them off on her thigh. She sat down and split the sticks in two, positioned them between her hand and stuffed a piece of Dim Sum into her mouth. "Mmmmmm oh Keelah it's like a mouth party." She chuckled.

She almost choked at his remark about him being able to smell her through his mask.

"Hey!" She gave him a playful bat on the arm.

She wolfed down the rest of the food in record time. Stuffed, she placed her hand on her stomach and let out a small belch.

"S'cuse me."

She got up carefully and placed the containers in the trash. Her limbs were still shaky, but she was glad to be able to finally walk again. Dare sat back down, folding her limbs underneath her.

"Well, I'm glad there's something about me," She began. "I'm glad we met."

She listened to the rain, sighing contently. It was one of her favourite sounds.

"I've always liked Quarians," She began. "I suppose because we're similar in a sense. Always in a suit. Anatomy isn't too different either. I vaguely remember Cren griping about not having his v-card punched, we were both drunk..." She burst into laughter, light and airy, like bells. "He was sick for a week."

Dare yawned.

* * *

><p>"Chopsticks...?" he asked, questionably. Dema's voice trailed off as he watched as she retrieved the stick from the metallic garbage bin. As she cleaned them off, he continued his confused series of questions, "I understand those are sticks, but would you rather have a knife, I do not those being effective at chopping anything..." His voice trailed off once more as he watched Dare begin to use them the proper way. As his voice fell to silence, he put his hand down, which he brought up to detest their purpose of 'chopping'. <em>What an odd name for sticks to pick up food.<em> he thought, not wishing to make a bigger fool of himself. She knew his culture very well, but it felt he knew little other than the basic textbook information.

Resting his elbows on his knees, he watched as she began to ingest the food. His vocal transmitter chuckled slightly upon the playful smack on the arm. Dema was actually shocked at how fast she was able to consume the meal, because to him it looked like a lot. He then raised his eyebrow slightly upon hearing the burp and her immediate reaction to it. "You are excused?"He said, laughing slightly at it.

He listened to the girl speak for a moment and then responded once more, "I am too. You are welcome to stay here the night, or as long as you want. I won't charge any rent until a week."His playful chuckle followed this statement once more, and despite it ending in a joke, the first part of the remark was sincere. Some odd magnetism made Dema wish to stay in contact with this strange girl who goes by _Dare_, of all things. "Of course, I'll pass on the _'luxury'_ you gave to Cren." He had used the quotation hand gesture when he mentioned it.

* * *

><p>She chuckled at how perplexed he was with the chopsticks.<p>

"Chop is slang for quick, you know, like "chop chop"! So I think they literally mean 'quick sticks'".

Dare couldn't help but feel a tad bit embarrassed at his offer. She wasn't an invalid, but she knew it was true. She was shit at taking care of herself. She needed help. And he was kind enough to offer it to her, and a place to stay? She couldn't argue with that.

"Thank You. I'll find a way to pay you back some day." She laughed, "you sure you want to pass up that 'luxury'?" She jokingly chimed. Dare got up and kissed the side of his mask. It was a friendly gesture, but if he saw it as more than that she wouldn't argue with it. She couldn't deny the slight twinge of attraction she felt towards him, or was it towards his kindness? Maybe it was a mixture of both. "Good Night, Dema."

She laid down on the couch, resting her head on her arm, letting the sound of the rain lull her into sleep.

_The voice drove away the moon and the light, and sorrow flowed into her, a cold, bitter river that snatched away the face of her mother, her father, her child, everyone in life that had been dear to her. It left behind every loss, every moment of pain and anguish. Her mother's closed casket, her father's bloody gasps.. It left behind emptiness, the twisted-knife ache of abandonment._

She could then feel the sting of a blade on her skin, see the blood trickling down. He stood above her, threatening, imposing, and she was young again. He was undoing the buckle of his pants. Hers were already off.

Dare woke with a start.

She was sweating. Her skin was clammy and pale, more-so than it usually was. Her breathing was ragged. A few stray tears rolled down her cheeks but she quickly wiped them away. The rain was still coming down, harder than it had been earlier. She looked at the clock in the kitchen. It was early in the morning.

She got up and slowly walked towards the small hallway, which is where she guessed Dema's room to be. She quietly opened the door. The light was still on, but he was asleep on the bed, papers and a few datapads strewn about the mattress. She quietly cleared them away and turned off the light. Dare laid down beside him and placed her head on his chest. She hated bad dreams, and right now he was the only friend she had, even though she had just met him. It was comforting.

Sleep soon came. Hopefully her dreams would be more pleasant, and if she was lucky, she wouldn't dream at all.

* * *

><p>The confused Quarian simply nodded as she explained the naming of <em>chopsticks<em>. He did not fully understand it, but for the sake of simplicity, went with it.

Dema hoped that his offer did not offend her, as it was a lot he was willing to give to her. Many of them were basic, inexpensive things, but still Dema felt obligated to help her. Like a stray animal found on a rainy night, he felt the urge to help her. Perhaps it was because to him, she was more than the aforementioned 'stray animal' metaphor. However, this thought was quickly put off by her temporary attempt to repay him. Hidden behind his suit, his eyes widened and his cheeks became flushed with embarrassment.

Jaded, Dema stood up, not wanting to get in the way of her sleep. "It..It's no problem at all. There is water and credits in the kitchenette if you need more 'Chinese' food." When he spoke this time, he pronounced the Human ethnicity correct. He would not make a fool of himself twice over the same issue. Dema departed from the room and towards the hallway, but stopped when his body was no longer visible, but his hand rested temporarily on the wall, "Feel free to wake me if you need anything." He said, giving a nod and then finally departing for the evening.

Uncertain if it was usual or unusual, Dema rarely ever dreamed. And this night was no different. Hours of looking at words on paper made his eyes weary, as if it were a chore to keep them open at this point. It was no longer than a couple of minutes before he fell into a dreamless sleep. The papers he took with him in there saw no use, as he did not do any work as he had planned.

Hours passed, but to the hibernating Quarian, it felt only like a few minutes. Thunder could be heard in the distance as the storm began to get worse. But Dema heard noises, not rain or thunder, but footsteps and shifting papers. Like a child not wanting to wake up for the upcoming school day, he remained there in his ignorant state. At least he did until he felt the feeling of flesh resting upon his chest. His mask illuminated two small circles as he groggily opened his eyes. What he saw surprised him, though, it was Dare. But then again, who else would it be? Lorn? Thankfully not.

Behind his mask, a warm smile grew on his face as he began to close his eyes. Dema moved his hand to her face and used his index finger to part the stray hair that partly concealed her face. Whether or not Dema was willing to admit it at this point, she was beautiful. After the hair was moved, he wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her slightly in, in a cuddling fashion. The two lights on his mask faded once more as he spoke one more time,

"Goodnight, Emilie."


	5. Never Complained

Her sleep was more peaceful this time around. When she awoke, she had almost forgotten that she had gone to Dema's room and fallen asleep on the man. The feeling of another's solid chest underneath her cheek was foreign. Her muscles felt a tad bit sore from being used again, but she wasn't going to get up yet. She wanted to stay like this until Utopia used up all of its hydrogen, until Eden Prime was cast in permanent darkness.

The rain had turned into snow. She watched the shadows of heavy flakes float down past the blinds. It reminded her of home.

Dema had both of his arms around her. She smiled. Trying her best to peel them off, she got up and sauntered, slowly, to the bathroom.

"_Iisusa Khrista grebanyy!_"

She nearly fell over after catching sight of her suit in the shower. She had completely forgotten about it. Poor Dema would have a heart attack if he walked in and turned the lights on. After relieving herself, she scribbled out a note to stick to the bathroom door to warn him of the impending scare. Wait, could he even read Russian? Had the technology changed? During her time, everything was written out in each alien language. Turian, Quarian, Drell, Krogan, Asari, Salarian, and English since it was the most wide-spread. Was there some way to read alien languages now without having to know them? She knew some English, but she wasn't fluent, and it wasn't a strong point. Maybe he knew a few words if Russian was a no go?

_Мой костюм в душе.  
>SUIT SHOWER.<em>

She remembered him mentioning something about credits last night. Sure enough, there were a few chits lying on the counter. She took one and checked the balance on her Omni. It was enough to buy food that would last her a few days. Maybe a pair of pants, too. She wriggled back into the cat suit, deciding it would be better to brave the weather in that instead of his co-worker's shirt.

-

She bought a few necessities. Milk, cereal, canned soup, bread, coffee, butter, and a pair of pants and a shirt. It wasn't much, but she had survived on far less and for far longer. Besides, she didn't want to spend more than necessary. Thankfully Dema lived close to the shops. She was surprised they were even open with the weather.

The pants were simple and black, and the shirt was a heavy blend of artificial fabrics meant to trap heat. She placed his co-worker's shirt back where she had found it. She made coffee and toast, and placed the credit chit back on the counter.

It then hit her that Rannoch was a place she could visit. Actually _visit_. She had always wanted to go. Maybe Dema would go with her.

She finished the rest of her meal and laid down on the couch, opening her Omni to catch up on the books she wasn't able to finish.

* * *

><p>There was a connection between the two. Dema could tell. The prior night he was uncertain if he genuinely liked Dare, but he awoke to the reassurance that he needed. It was not a rush of the moment or a feeling of guilt, but an actual emotional connection he developed with her.<p>

Dema had woken up about an hour before her, when the rain was just beginning to transform into sleet. He had the choice to get up and prepare some sort of food, but he did not wish to disturb the girl whom laid beside him. When he felt the slight shifting, an indication of her once again becoming conscious to the world, he loosened his grip around her so that she could get up. As she got up, he slid himself up to rest his back partially on the wall. He did not conceal that he was awake at this point. Just then a pain came to his stomach as it projected a growling sound. He had completely forgotten to eat. Dema followed behind Dare into the hallway, but made a turn in a different direction. He was returning to the Kitchenette.

It did not take him much time to get the bowl of food he placed in the small refrigerator and toss it on top of the hotplate, an inexpensive alternative to using the dangerous oven. His attention was diverted once more when he heard the shouting of a foreign language down the hallway. He opened his mouth to speak, but then in his mind came a memory from last night. He had completely forgotten of the suit that lay dormant in there. Dema closed his mouth slowly and continued to work on his 'breakfast'. He looked out the window for a moment and had noticed the white flurry of snow that had begun to come down. "Strange weather.." he mumbled to himself before using a napkin to lift the food from the hot plate.

_If I plan on hosting more 'house parties' like this, perhaps I should invest in a dining table._ Dema pondered as he placed his food on the coffee table. Using his thumb and his farthest finger, he wrapped it around his mask so that he could press down on two points of the mask, which would allow him to remove it safely. The small barrier would protect him while he ate, so long as he did not take too long. He placed the mask cover gently on the arm of the couch and then lifted the bowl up closer to his face, so that he could use it to catch any dropped pieces of food. He was nearly finished as he heard Dare finish with her business, and unbeknownst to him, the note. When she made her way into the room, he was just then finishing the fitting to put the mask back on, but it gave Dare a second or two glimpse of his exposed face.

Dema looked back to her once he finished the mask's mounting process, "Going out? Be careful. This cold liquid is very slippery and you have only been out of the suit for a day." Genuine concern was in his voice as he explained the concept that was foreign to him, but was likely common knowledge for Dare.

-

After Dare's departure, he had placed his dishes in the sink and plopped himself back onto the sofa, already tinkering with his omni-tool. He had finally gotten a better look at her friend's research, which he used a translator to make it capable of being understood. He couldn't use the device to help much whenever she spoke in her native language, but when it was written down, he had no difficulties running it through the program. He spent much time going through the data, discovering things he had not known prior to reading.

The Quarian had gotten so caught up in the research that it caught him by surprise when he heard that Dare was back. It probably looked like Dema hadn't even moved from the spot in which he was when she left. Her return gave him something of higher priority than research to focus on, "Welcome back, I see you've wasted no time draining my funds," he said in a joking manner once more. Despite the appearance that the housing gave off, he was actually not short on credits. He chose this building for the sake of saving credits, rather than using them for luxuries to go unused.

While the Human girl was eating her food, Dema spoke in a little more serious of a tone. There was a momentarily silence as he swallowed before talking, "Do you plan on staying here? Because if you do, consider this a formal invitation. If you don't, where do you plan to go? And.." He paused for a moment, looking away for just a second before facing her once more, "Is there a chance that I might be able to go with you? Th- The uh.. research may prove more effective while visiting different locations, because here it is a static environment but while traveling? Very, very dynamic indeed." He attempted to justify his last action, throwing slightly complicated words into the mix to make it sound more logical, but he was uncertain if she could see his ulterior motive.

* * *

><p>Dare could have sworn her heart skipped a beat when she caught sight of his face as he was eating. He was... handsome would be the best word to use. <em>Really<em> handsome. She couldn't hear what he was saying. Something about liquid and being careful.

"R-right, yes. I'll uh... I'll be careful."

She could feel heat prickling up her neck and face as she exited the apartment.

-

It didn't surprise her that he was in the same spot he was in when she left.

"Hey, at least you have credits to spend!" She jokingly teased. She sipped on her coffee, reading the next installment of _Fleet and Flotilla_. She had just finished the first book before she went into stasis, and was thrilled to discover a plethora of sequels, prequels, and spin-offs. "Hm, I don't think a Quarian wrote this book, _Fifty Shades of Rannoch_, something about nerve-stimulants..." She trailed off, generally interested in what she was reading.

Dema then began to talk. She listened carefully, finding it hard not to see that face behind the mask.

"Well, I don't think I'll stay here. I want to go to Rannoch. It's a place I can actually _visit,_ I've always wanted to. It sounds so beautiful, 'Walled Garden', and the pictures on the extranet look gorgeous. Desert, ocean, the planets and rocks. But... I want to go back to Saint Petersburg first. I know my parents are long dead, but if there house is still there there are some things I need to get. Pictures, mostly." She kneaded the fabric of her shirt. "So, maybe we could go. I hid a credit chit in a photo album. 20 million, to be exact. Being a bounty hunter and mining platinum and helium-3 had its perks. I made a promise to Cren, that I'd use my money to help rebuild Rannoch. We had a plan, that when we turned ninety we'd shoot a bunch of heroin and storm the Geth ships." She laughed.

"I want to help in any way possible. The people who have been most kind to me have been yours."

She gave him a small smile.

It was strange, she had just met this man the other day, but she felt a connection to him. Perhaps it was silly, or sappy to say, but the feeling was there. He had been so kind to her, to someone he found camping out like a Vorcha underneath a porch. He must have a big heart, she finally concluded.

* * *

><p>Dema had difficulty hiding the snickers behind his voice, "<em>Fifty Shades of Rannoch<em>? You're not actually reading that are you?" He said half-jokingly. "To each their own, right?" Dema said, attempting to use a Human idiom, despite it being likely that Dare would be familiar with any Quarian one if he were to recite them. It was clear that she spent much time around them, or studying them, or perhaps just fantasizing about them, but either way; she knew her Quarians.

Once Dare's words broke the momentary silence, he looked away from his omnitool, listening to what she had to say. It was no surprise she did not plan to settle down in one spot quiet yet. After all, he did find her under a porch in the middle of practically no where. Without second thought, he responded; "Quiet a plan you developed with Cren, to say the least... I find the earlier more logical and less dangerous," he took a pause and laughed a little, his head shaking in a relaxed manner. He then resumed speaking with a question, "Saint Petersburg? I was under this assumption you were from Earth. I can not say I've heard of this place." It took him a moment to think that it was possibly a location on Earth, but he did not bother to retract his previous folly.

He gave Dare a chance to correct or even belittle him as he began to focus back on his omni-tool, but on the extranet instead. He had tabbed out of the data from her old companion. Borderline zoning out for a second, he developed a temporary tunnel vision on his task at hand: to find out how much the travel costs were to her destination. He began to speak again as he drew closer to the result, "And my apologies for having my face revealed earlier, but we've all got to eat, you know?" he chuckled and then looked up to her, "I can cover the cost to Earth, if you wish to go there. A passenger shuttle goes to Luna, and from there, we can shuttle down to your destination." He gave a warm smile, but it was blocked out by his mask once more.

* * *

><p>"Lar das na tasi," she repeated in Khelish. <em>To each his own.<em> "Cren said that a lot. Sometimes I'd turn my translator off and repeat Khelish words to scare the shit out of him. It was funny." She laughed. A wicked grin then spread on her face. Another prank involved her taking his translator, and setting his Omnitool to read out documents in Russian instead of having him manually read them. Hopefully Dema was one for practical jokes. "Anyways..."

"It's in Russia. I was born in Moscow, the Capital, but we moved to Saint Petersburg when I was still a baby. I was enlisted in the program when I was fourteen. My parents were poor, they offered them a big sum of money for girls who met the criteria. I was a plain-Jane, normal, not emotionally disturbed - at least not yet - teenaged girl. I never forgave them." She trailed off. Dare shook her head.

Her back straightened and she flushed, pupils dilating when he apologized for having his face revealed. She was suddenly grossly aware of all of her movements. She hadn't exhaled yet. Dare was stuck in a sort of trance, not knowing what to do. _He's going to notice if you don't relax, idiot._ She slumped back down against the couch and exhaled softly.

"Luna? Why does everyone call it that? We always call it "The Moon". I guess us humans wanted it to sound more elegant. All of our other planets' moons' have nice names. Sedna, Triton, Callisto..., and ours was just called 'The Moon'. Hrm."

She leaned forward, resting her hand on his leg.

"Thank You, again, for everything. I don't know if you want repayment but I'll be more than willing to give you a share of the credits once we're there."

She couldn't control her hand._ What_ was she doing? Her hand rested on one side of his chest, the fabric soft and pliable, the muscle dense but not rigid. Her liquid brown eyes were knit in concentration when she moved her hand to the side of his mask, her fingers catching on the strange grooves that decorated the sides. She pulled her hand away, as if suddenly realizing what she was doing. She flushed once more.

"Ah..., er. Should I leave the suit here?"


	6. All The Survivors Singing In The Rain

Dema nodded as she listened to Dare speak of her past once more. It was shocking to Dema that some people could be so cruel, especially to someone like her. Out of some nurturing instinct, Dema wrapped his arm behind her and pulled her slightly towards him to comfort her. The Quarian had realized she momentarily was trapped in some sort of trance, likely due to her dwelling on the past. He was uncertain if she wanted to be touched, but knew that hopefully it would make her drop the subject, for her own sake.

When he spoke, his voice could be faintly felt in vibrations if he was being leaned on, "Luna is the technical term," he said, not trying to sound rude, "If everyone called their Moon _The_Moon, and their Sun the same, then it would get rather confusing." Dema then felt the hand on his leg, which had caught him by surprise.

"I'm not too worried about money at this point, I'd rather j-u..." Dema began to trail off as he felt the girl's hand physical examine his suit. He took this moment to examine her eyes, which displayed a beauty which he felt was previously rude to look at. His eyes however shifted upon feeling her fingers on his mask, uncertain of what exactly Dare was doing. As she pulled her hand away, Dema caught it, and clasped it gentle, but firmly in between his hands, and lowered it to lap level. He then spoke in a much lower tone, "Is there something you're not telling me Dare?" His voice didn't display anger, but rather curiosity. At this point, he knew that this was not how most humans act around others, or at least he assumed not. He could only imagine that she probably wouldn't like it if he acted the same and were to feel her body around...Or maybe she would, who knows.

After only a split moment of asking, he then responded to her final question, "The suit? Do you need it?" He was curious if she would be in danger otherwise, but physically, she seemed to recover well so far from being away from it. "Personally, I enjoy seeing your real body much more than the one I met you in." He then patted the top of her hand and let go of it.

* * *

><p>Oh, oh damn him! Damn him to hell!<p>

He caught her hand, bringing it back down to his lap. For a moment she could feel all the air exerting itself upon her, could feel ever synapse and neuron telling her to just smile and go along with what he was saying, but he had caught her off guard.

_Is there something you're not telling me, Dare?_

His voice was low, but curious. Soft, almost. The way his accent hitched behind every word made her want to listen more, made her want to make him read the phonebook. She had only just met him a day ago, and now he had completely hijacked her body. No. She was not going to blush. No. Not happening. This was crazy.

She fidgeted, glanced at Dema briefly, and shook her head.

She was horrible with this romance shit.

Wait, _romance?_

Well, that escalated quickly.

Her eyes snapped back into focus.

"The suit... no, I don't think I'll need it. It's just, I'm so used to being in it. It's almost second nature, I suppose. But no. I want to stay out of it. I'm so sick of fighting, Dema." She sighed.

And then he said something that made her pause for a moment. He patted the top of her hand and let go of it. She was frozen. What was she going to do? How would she say it? She had just met him. This was crazy, it had to be, didn't relationships take a long time to build? She felt such a strong connection to him, however, and her feelings were rolling inside of her like a tumultuous wave.

"Well, I don't have much to pack."

She laughed.

It then hit her that this was her chance. This was her chance to be someone she actually wanted to be, someone who wasn't a ruthless killing machine, someone with a bad past. She could make a new life for self, and there was nothing in the Universe that was going to take that away from her.

* * *

><p><em>It was snowing in ...<em>

The journey hadn't been a particularly long one. Once they made it to Luna, they taxi'd to Moscow. It felt very strange being back in her home country, her home planet. Moscow had retained its very old, very vibrant history, but it still been modernized. The old buildings remained, however. She pointed out the Russian State Library.

"You could spend hours in there, I bet."

After getting a plate of _pelmeni_ from a food cart, they took a SkyCar to .

The Byzantine architecture was the thing she remembered the most. It was raining, for it was early spring. The SkyCar driver offered her an umbrella but she declined. The streets were vast and filled with tourists, but she grabbed a hold of Dema's hand and pulled him along.

"Tchaikovsky lived here briefly, are you familiar with him?"

She pulled up Piano Concerto No. 1 on her OmniTool, letting him listen as they walked along.

They walked for a few blocks before she came upon her old house. She was surprised it was still there, albeit it was rather run down. When no answer came when she knocked, she stepped inside. The place was practically abandoned. A few of her Mother's things remained, such as her cookware and utensils, and some thread work. There was virtually no trace of any of her Father's belongings.

"Up here," she motioned to the stairs.

Her room had not been touched, left the same it was the day she left all those years ago. The bed had a simple steel frame, and a small wood stove was situated by the window. She had a few books, and that was about it. Her family wasn't particularly well off. She walked around the almost barren room until she found what she was looking for. One of the floor boards had squeaked under her weight, and when she pulled it out, it revealed the photo album.

"Reverse psychology, who's going to want a photo album?"

She thumbed one of the photos, a picture of her family, and to her great relief, the Credit Chit was still there.

"It's an older model, will it still work? The bank account has been untouched for decades too..."

She handed the Chit to Dema and sat down on her bed. It was hard being back here. She wasn't expecting the sudden surge of emotion, but this had been her home for the beginning of her life. Although her parents weren't particularly kind people, there were some things she missed, such as her Mother's cooking, and the way her Father would smoke his pipe at the dinner table.

* * *

><p>Dema felt like there was something Dare was not quite willing to tell him, but there was no reason to pry for it. When the time came for her to share it, she would.<p>

Feeling it necessary, he gave some reassurance to the Human, "You don't need that...big...scary suit," He paused for a moment, peering down the hallway, as if it had a life of it's own. In all truthfulness, it sort of creeped the Quarian out. "If any 'baddies' come after us, I'll take care of them." He gave a brief chuckle and then went back to his omni-tool to send his coworker a note that he was leaving for an unknown amount of time, and he could have the place until the lease was up.

The Quarian was actually happy to hear she did not have much in terms of luggage, because without the strength-inducing suit, it was likely he'd be the one carrying it. Dema had then begun to do his packing, taking the necessities that any Quarian would take in his travels, as well as his pistol, in case anything were to happen.

Upon touching down in Russia, Dema was not hesitant to remark on it, "Keelah...Do you Humans choose to settle in snow on _purpose_?" Every Human settlement the Quarian had experienced, it was snowing. Just then, he looked to where Dare pointed, at the library. "Interesting." He responded, wishing to eventually visit it. But for now, his attention was focused on his 'Tour guide'.

The architecture of the city was magnificent to Dema, and he provided something akin to a monologue as Dare worked on her pelmeni, "This is interesting. Some architecture seems to be similar to your 'Italian' culture. During the flight, I read a little of Russia, and _your_ culture, and this does not seem like it, but it is. Perhaps I have read the wrong information?" He said, pondering it for a second, then addressing his knowledge of Italy, "I...took a two week class on 'Italian' history back when I lived on the fleet..." He gave a brief laugh, and then noticed that she had finished her food, and thus his borderline nerdy rant was complete.

He felt her hand grab onto his and for a moment, felt at ease in this strange place. He stuck close to Dare, not wanting to risk being lost in such an unfamiliar place, however it likely wouldn't be too bad... After all, how many Quarians could there be there? Dema listened to her question about the old musician. "Tchaikovsky? I have heard the name. I am not sure I have heard anything by him though." Her playing it made it all the more relaxing, Dema was used to hearing electronic based music, but to hear an instrument that was unique to the Humans was a refreshing feeling.

He fell silent, enjoying the music, until she shut it off, a gesture that they had arrived to their location. Upon entering the building, he was careful not to touch anything there, to avoid the risk of upsetting Dare, who was not the host.

Dema sat next to her as she went through the album, allowing her to find the credits before pointing anything out. He chuckled a little bit as she flipped through the pages, and even when the chit was found that contained what she described as a fortune, he was still more focused on the photos. Using one of his fingers, he flipped back a couple of pages and then tapped one of the photographs, "Keelah..is that you?" he said, laughter in his voice.

After he settled down, he inspected the chit, and listened to her explain. He noticed the weakness in her voice formulate as she continued her sentence. "I'm sure it'll work. We can redeem it later.." The Quarian then wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to him, so that she could rest her head on his chest if she wished to do so. "Are you going to be alright?"

* * *

><p>She listened as Dema babbled on about his studies with Italian history.<p>

"Well, Russia, Belarus, and Ukraine all borrow the same principles of building. Slopping domes, gilded carvings and ornate decorations, complex patterns, have you ever heard of the Amber Room? It used to be not far from here. It was in the Tsar's Palace, huge panels of amber, gold leaf, and mirrors. It was breath taking. Very Baroque. It was looted by the Nazis during the Second World War and its remains lost in Germany after the turmoils of the war. There has been some effort to replicate it, however."

"Cren told me about the zero-grav gardens of the Quarians, which were specifically non-recreational and more industrial-agrarian in build; giant trellises of cable crops stretching out as far as the eye can see, along with enormous green and blue tanks of macrocultures. It always fascinated me, thinking of those big Live Ships filled with those gardens." She paused, "he corrected me about the Suits, saying they were more for privacy than anything, where on the ultra-dense ships, privacy was more of commodity than a privilege."

-

_Keelah...is that you?_

He was pointing to the picture of her sitting next to their family dog, a big Bernese named Kletska. _Dumpling._

"Yeah, that's me." She laughed. She had an almost comical appearance. Large cheeks, big brown eyes, shoulder-length curls which seemed to have a mind of their own. The dog didn't look very impressed, for she was tugging on its ear.

Dema sat down next to her, and she rested her head upon his chest.

"I'll be okay."

She picked up the photo album and thumbed through it until she found the picture she was looking for. It was her the day she had given birth to her daughter. It was the only photo where she looked _truly_ happy. Her hair was long and shiny, cheeks rosy, albeit she did look a little bit sweaty and ragged. Her eyes were crinkled and her mouth was pulled into a big smile. The bundle in her arms was small, and was resting against her chest.

"Only picture I have of her," she said quietly. Dare removed the photo from the crinkled protector and folded it before placing it in her pocket. "Let's go redeem that chit, no use in dwelling in the past," she said quietly. She led Dema out the door and down the snowy streets before they came upon a Bank. Oddly enough, there was a Volus at the counter. Didn't they mostly deal with banking on The Citadel?

She shrugged.

"I'd like to redeem this chit, close the current account it's associated with, and open a new one. A joint account."

The Volus scanned the chit and looked at her for a few seconds.

" -tsk- Ma'am, this -tsk- bank account is over -tsk- fifty years old. I'm going to need -tsk- to see some identification for the -tsk- amount that is -tsk- in here."

Dare pulled up her Omnitool. The Volus looked at her face, and then back to the Omni.

"Now, -tsk- would you like the 100 million to be split between -tsk- two accounts?"

Her jaw had dropped to the floor. _One Hundred Million freakin' credits?!_

"I... that amount doesn't sound right. Last time I checked, it was 20 million."

"This Bank rewards -tsk- long standing accounts with a slow -tsk- accumulation of -tsk- interest. So, split -tsk- the credits?"

"No, no, just an account that only I and my friend here can access."

" -tsk- Alright, I'll -tsk- give you both an -tsk- access Chit -tsk- in which the -tsk- account can be accessed via -tsk- OmniTool or one of our -tsk- fine Bank Machines."

"_My bogaty! My gryaznyye vonyuchiye bogatym! O schastlivyy den!_" She was ecstatic. She hugged Dema and grabbed the sides of his face, kissing his re-breather. "I can finally help with Rannoch! I think this calls for some celebration."

She tugged at his arm again, leading him towards a hotel. It was the priciest one, but who gives a ****? She got a penthouse suite for the night, ordered triple distilled Turian Brandy for Dema, and champagne for herself, along with food. Surprisingly enough, they had a good Dextro menu. Popping the cork in the champagne, she laughed.

"I never thought I'd be in a penthouse suite sipping champagne, to Rannoch!"

She raised her glass.


End file.
